


Fourth and Goal

by Jantique



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Deployment, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:25:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jantique/pseuds/Jantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny knew that it was always difficult, for any military spouse. But when <i>his</i> stupid super-SEAL was called up, Danny never knew when Steve would come home. Then the <i>ohana</i> wins tickets to the NFL Pro Bowl. (No knowledge of American football necessary!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fourth and Goal

**Author's Note:**

> Assurance: You don’t need ANY knowledge of American football whatsoever to follow this story. Part of it just takes place at the NFL Pro Bowl.

Danny knew that it was always difficult, for any military spouse. He didn’t mean to denigrate anyone’s experience. But generally, there were at least certain comforts. You knew where your spouse was stationed. You could talk to them, on the phone or computer, every so often. Best of all, you knew when their tour would be over, when you could expect them home. You could count down the days.

When _his_ stupid super-SEAL was called up, none of that applied. He didn’t know where Steve was going, other than Into Extreme Danger. That was a given. There was no contact while Steve was on a mission. And worst of all, Danny never knew when Steve would come home.

He kept going, as best he could. He and Chin and Kono kept Five-0 running. He wrote letters to Steve that he filed on his computer, since he couldn’t send them. Car rides were much too quiet, so he had arguments aloud, taking both sides. (Sometimes “Steve” even won.) And he reassured Grace that Steve was fine, no news was good news, and they would certainly hear if anything happened to Steve, not that it would, of course!

But that was the crux of it. Steve and he weren’t married; weren’t even civil-unionized. (A situation he planned on altering as soon as humanly possible!) He had Steve’s power of attorney and medical proxy and was listed as his next of kin everywhere possible. But—would the Navy even tell him? G-d, he hated this waiting!

Three months passed, agonizingly slowly. Then one day two uniformed Navy officers, a man and a woman, walked into the Five-0 headquarters. Danny looked at them and felt his heart stop beating, as coherent thought fled and he forgot to breathe.

_‘Nonono--Steve--Steve--’_

Chin grabbed for him as he swayed, guiding him into a nearby chair. Kono demanded, “What is it? Is it Steve?”

One of the officers, realizing the situation, hastily said, “No, it’s okay. Commander McGarrett is fine. I’m sorry if we scared you.”

_Fine._

Danny drew in a deep breath. “He’s … fine.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was too much. “Then what the fuck are you _doing_ here!”, he blurted. He put his head in his hands. “Shit.” 

Chin was making polite, apologetic noises. Kono couldn’t be bothered--how _dare_ they scare Danny like that!--but she got Danny a glass of water. Finally he looked up.

“Shit, I’m sorry. No disrespect intended.”

The officer smiled. “That’s all right. I’m truly sorry we didn’t announce ourselves better. I’m Lt. Cmdr. Solomon and this is Lt. Warren. We’re here with good news, actually.”

Danny was dubious. “Good news”, to him, was _Steve is coming home_. But Steve would just _do_ it. So….

“What kind of good news?”

“Excuse me. I assume that you are Detective Daniel Williams?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Sorry. Lt. Chin Ho Kelly, Officer Kono Kalakaua.” Danny waved his hand around the room.

“Pleased to meet you all. Apparently Cmdr. McGarrett entered you into a contest we’re having for military families, to win tickets to the NFL Pro Bowl. He says that you’re his ‘ohana’. And, you won!”

Danny was not impressed. “The Pro Bowl, huh? Big deal. Not like the baseball All-Star game; there’s nothing at stake in the Pro Bowl.” But Kono squealed, “The Pro Bowl, really, brah?!” Chin didn’t squeal (ever), but he was a football player himself. Watching some of the NFL’s best players in the Pro Bowl would be fun.

“In addition,” Solomon smoothly continued, “We’ll be in Skype contact with Cmdr. McGarrett. We’ll put him up on the big screen and you’ll be able to see and talk to him during halftime.”

Chin frowned. “So it’s really just a publicity stunt,” he said.

“You can look at it that way,” Solomon said. “It’s good publicity for the Navy, sure. But I understand that Cmdr. McGarrett has been out of contact since his mission began. At least you’ll get to talk to him, and see for yourself that he’s all right.”

“Yeah, fine, we’ll take it,” Danny said hastily. “But listen, we need four seats, and that’s non-negotiable. The three of us, and my daughter Grace. She’s practically Steve’s step-daughter, and she’s been worried sick since he’s been gone. I know it would mean a lot to both of them if she could see for herself that he’s okay.”

Solomon smiled. “She’s on my list. The three of you, and Miss Grace Williams.”

“Well, okay.” Danny took a deep breath. “So, um, when is the Pro Bowl?”

“Three weeks from now, January 27th, in Aloha Stadium,” Kono helpfully supplied.

Danny ignored her. “So,” he said to Solomon, “You going to keep McGarrett healthy between now and then?”

The two officers looked at each other, then Solomon said, “That’s not up to us. But I’m sure the Navy will do its best.”

“Yeah, well, they’d better,” Danny muttered. But now he had hope, which was a thousand times better than before. In three weeks he could see and talk to Steve, even if it was from thousands of miles away.

Of course, the next three weeks dragged by even more slowly than the three months before. Grace was beside herself, crossing off the days on her calendar, and worrying about what to wear, until Danny finally said, “Gracie, honey, you wear football clothing. Jeans, sneakers and your Jets t-shirt. For crying out loud, Rachel, no one wears a dress to a football game!”

Danny tried to plan what he could say to Steve in front of thousands of people--millions if it was shown on TV. Obviously, “My bed is cold; I need to make love to you” was right out. So was a simple “I love you”. DADT might be abolished, but he wouldn’t be doing Steve’s career any favors by outing him to the world. More than just his career--could Steve count on his men to be there for him, could Danny count on HPD to have his back, if they came out like that? No, better just a simple “I miss you; come home soon.” And call him “Steve”, not “babe”. Right. He could do this. It would be fine. He crossed his fingers.

They arrived at the stadium early, and were ushered to seats only a few rows up on the 40-yard line. Chin and Kono were ecstatic. Of course, they wanted to see Steve, but in the meantime: Pro Bowl! Forty-yard line! Grace didn’t really understand football--she was a soccer girl--and Danny was much too distracted to pay any attention to the game. At the two-minute warning at the end of the first half, they were brought down to the edge of the field. Seven minutes after the two-minute warning, the first half finally ended. (That’s football.) There were announcements.  _Blah, blah, blah_ , Danny wasn’t listening. Finally, they were led to a microphone. He heard the words, “…an American hero, Navy Lt. Cmdr. Steven McGarrett…” and the big goof’s face appeared on the giant screen, 40 times larger than life. He looked serious, but … okay. No visible injuries.

Danny took a couple of quick breaths. Until this minute, he had not really believed that Steve would actually appear, safe and sound. (As far as he could see.)

Grace shouted, “Uncle Steve! Uncle Steve! Can you see me?”, jumping up and down and waving frantically.

Gigantic Steve smiled. “Hey, Grace-face! Yeah, I can see you! How’ve you been?”

“Oh … fine.” It was a little intimidating talking to a giant face. But she had to know, “When are you coming home?”

Steve bit his lip. “Soon, honey. As soon as I possibly can.” He called out, “Hey, Kono, Chin … Danno.” The “Danno” was much softer.  Kono and Chin yelled out greetings. Danny just stood there, looking up, and didn’t have a word to say. He didn’t have the words for what was in his heart, never mind saying them out loud.

Steve said a few words to Chin and Kono. Then someone behind him said something. Steve turned his head away, then turned back and said, “I have to go.”

“WAIT!” Danny blurted. “Steve, you … you just take _care_ of yourself and stay _safe_ and come _home_ or, or, I will track you down, I swear!”

Steve smiled. “Don’t worry, I will. I’ll see you soon, I promise.”  Then the screen went black.

More announcements, _blah, blah_ , and did they go back to their seats now? But no, apparently they were wanted to stay right where they were, on the field. Chin and Kono were excitedly talking. Danny was lost in his head, storing up every second of the too-brief call. Grace, now bored, was looking all around her—so she saw him first.

Suddenly, a Grace-shaped missile raced down the field, making any running back proud, screaming “Steeeeeeeeve!” Danny whipped around, and there—oh, G-d—no—yes—KILL that sonuva—Steve. His Steve. HERE. He ran, Chin and Kono right behind him.

Steve stopped right in the middle of the field and scooped Grace up in his arms. He kissed her and said something and put her down. Then he held up his hand in a “stop” sign. Danny stopped, puzzled, but then Steve beckoned him with a crooked finger. Oh. Just him. He walked forward.

The audience was already on its feet applauding, if any of the ohana could have been bothered to notice. Cmdr. McGarrett wasn’t miked, so no one could hear what he said, but what millions of people saw was this:

Cmdr. McGarrett waited in the middle of Aloha Stadium, his hand on the little girl’s shoulder, while Detective Williams walked up to him. When he got there, McGarrett _got down on one knee_ and held Williams’ hands in his. There being only one reason in the world to go down on bended knee, the audience held its collective breath. (Whether you loved it or hated it, it was clearly a history-making moment.) Williams smiled, shook his head, said something.  McGarrett quickly stood, swept Williams into his arms and kissed the stuffing out of him. (“ _Get me a close-up, damn it! This is gold!_ ”) Grace jumped up and down, the other cops ran over, and the audience went berserk.

Stan Edwards, who was watching on TV, said, “Huh! I didn’t think he had the balls.”

“Oh, shut up, Stan!” _Damn it, why did she always marry the wrong man?!_

The NFL never recovered, caught as it was between professional homophobia and publicly appearing politically correct. Twelve professional athletes came out of the closet the next day. (The figure skaters didn’t even count.) No telling how many military and cops.

The game. Oh, yeah, they finished the game. Fifty thousand people in Aloha Stadium spent the entire second half of the game on their cell phones, never looking down at the field. Not that anyone ever gave a rat’s ass who won the Pro Bowl anyway. But really, the players collectively thought, it would have been nice if people had _watched_.

And Steve and Danny (and Grace, of course) lived happily ever after, catching bad guys in Pineapple-Infested—well, maybe not a hellhole after all. Kind of like … Paradise. Still too many pineapples, though.

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an event at the Tournament of Roses, 1/01/13, but actually based on a True Story that took place at Fenway Park, home of the Boston Red Sox Baseball team, on July 4, 2012. (July 4th being the U. S. Independence Day.) The proposal on the field is all mine, though. (Wouldn't it be nice?)


End file.
